


Each day's a new battle

by orphan_account



Category: Black Panther (2018), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bro kings bonding, Bruce's a mess but he loves Thor, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Healing, M/M, Self-Reflection, Shuri's the best, Thor's a mess but he loves Bruce, friendships are important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 08:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13784031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: "Thor sometimes wishes he could revert back to his simple title of God of Thunder — the fearless hero, battling, saving lives and celebrating his victories. He never imagined himself to be a diplomatic man, but he has to be one now. He’s not a child anymore.He’s a hero, a god, a brother, a lover, a king... He looks at his friends and wonders if all his responsibilities aren’t alienating him, because he feels his connection to them thinning with the passing of days."Midgard doesn't leave Thor any time to rest; between his duties as a king, a hero and a political figure, he starts to lose himself to stress and self-loathing. Everything feels numb inside of him, and he doesn't know what to do to get himself out of his depressive state. His own doubts weights on his relationship with Bruce.He meets a king who offers him a kind smile and invite him into his kingdom; T'Challa looks at him with acknowledgment, and honest camaraderie. It's not much, but it may be exactly what Thor needs in order to find balance and peace in his new life on Earth.





	Each day's a new battle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mad_marquise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_marquise/gifts).



> I love my bara dads Thor and Bruce, but now I love Black Panther way more. It’s not, like, a competition in my heart; I can love more than one thing at the time. But I have the need to write about Black Panther too, you know? 
> 
> I don’t have any good ideas to bring to the imagery and storytelling of that universe, so I’ll simply read excellent essays about the movie. BUT, I still wanna see two kings from two different worlds have an exchange about duties, rights, love and destiny. ‘Cause I know it’ll never happen in a Marvel movie, and I’m not invested enough to research every Marvel comic ever made to try to find out if they shared some kind of conversations about that.  
> Anyway, I loved Black Panther, twas a life changing experience (from my white POV), definitely in my top 10 favorite movies. <3 
> 
> Thanks again infinitely to [@mad_marquise](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_marquise/pseuds/mad_marquise) who made an incredible beta reading job with this story. My French butt is still faaar away from decent English writing, and her help means a lot to me. Please check out her amazing fics as well! It's the sweetest in the fandom, no kidding.

_**Who needs a hero?** _

 

New Asgard looks nothing like the old one. Why would it, anyway? The people may not be changing, but their worlds, their views and their beliefs are — and it’d be hardly interesting to create a floating kingdom on a round, earthly planet.

 

Thor likes having a constant view of the ocean, and the intensity of cold winds brushing after his footsteps. The main color scheme of the city and his people’s fabrics is still gold, but the red tones of blood and fire were left behind them, amongst their planet’s ashes.

 

Asgard is now golden and blue. Thor likes it that way. It reflects the changes in his heart and in his destiny.

 

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the luxury to admire his kingdom lately. He’s running all around the world, meeting countries’ leaders, NGO, his fellow Avengers in their new quarters, living through meetings without missing a beat. During his time as s the King’s heir, he had always feared the hardship awaiting for him; his current reality is not far off from that fear, alas. He’s a leader amongst so many others, now, so he must ensure that everyone’s politics meet on most matters in order to not create new war.

 

He sometimes wishes he could revert back his simple title of God of Thunder — the fearless hero, battling, saving lives and celebrating his victories. He never imagined himself to be a diplomatic man, but he has to be one now. He’s not a child anymore.

 

He’s a hero, a god, a brother, a lover, a king... He looks at his friends and wonders if all his responsibilities aren’t alienating him, because he feels his connection to them thinning with the passing of days.

 

He bitterly envies the simpleness of their lives, the lack of power of decision they have. The Avengers don’t understand his tiredness when discussing the events of their Civil War; they don’t get why Thor, the mighty warrior from the stars, won’t join them in dismantling villain organisations hidden in some secret military bases.

 

“I do not have the time anymore to help you on those adventures, my friends. But I will be there if Earth’s safety is threatened again.” Nobody says a word in return, because they at least have the decency to feign acknowledgement.

 

His frustration begins to weigh on _all_ his relationships. Bruce is surely the first one to experience it, all things considered. Thor’s stress adds up with his, and they’re both lost in their own heads, unable to communicate correctly on the matter. Thor doesn’t want to confess his mediocrity; Bruce won’t talk about his issues with someone he’s judged has it worse than him.

 

They’re drifting apart as well, and they don’t seem to be able to do anything about it.

 

One night, as they’re both laying in the small bed arrangement of a hotel after several days of travelling and political meetings, something breaks between them. At least, something does inside Bruce. Thor watches him put his clothes back on, ready to leave him behind without a word — like he did before to those he loved, his colleagues, Betty, Tony, and Natasha.

 

“Bruce, what are you doing?”

 

The room is mediocre in comparison to what they were used to back home on Asgard — old and new — but as long as they’re together, they’re supposed to always feel at their best.

 

The wallpaper is yellow with no pattern, a little television is sitting near the only window where the city below can be heard, but not seen. The carpet floor makes no noise under Bruce’s steps, but the door creaks dramatically loud when he finally says:

 

“Please, don’t. I can’t- I can’t bear any of your compassion right now.”

 

Knowing the smell and hurt of a battle already lost, Thor simply… shuts down. He lets him go. He has no right over this man, and he won’t guilt trip him into staying near him for his own comfort if he needs so dearly to be away.

 

His eye falls on the clear ceiling above him, tears ready to fall. His hands are joined in prayer but he has lost faith. The gesture is meaningless, but he has nothing else to grasp onto.

 

All seems to be falling apart, the pieces of himself first. Thunder is tearing the sky with such strength that the night is as clear as the day. Rain washes away everything, drooling over plants and flowers, rising the rivers, wetting every bit of skin with no shelter.

 

He couldn’t care less. He’s losing everything. Who’s going to save him from himself?

 

At the next meeting attends, he meets one of his Avengers’ partners, the Black Panther. He only seen the man rapidly before — they had been introduced and they shared pleasantries, but apart from his title and his bodyguard, Thor doesn’t know much about him. The man is wearing a black suit completed with a colorful scarf falling to his thighs, and he looks at Thor with thoughtful eyes.

 

The woman following him like his shadow doesn’t look at Thor at all. He’s grateful for that, as he has no energy left in him to be on the defensive. He can barely hold the other man’s gaze, simply by curiosity, maybe awaiting the moment when he will finally lose his last stripes of sanity.

 

“Asgard’s king.”

 

“Wakanda’s king.” He nods his head slightly, mirroring his friend’s actions in a mechanical manner. He misses the smell of the sea and the warmth of another person at his side.

 

“Please excuse me for being forward, but you look rather unwell. Did this meeting wear you down?”

 

“Oh, no, I’m sure it’s simply the lack of sleep.” The night previous, Thor hadn’t closed his eye, the sounds of thunder vibrating under his skin like thousand needles reminding him of his mistakes. He had watched the sun rise, tears bathing his face for hours.

 

They’re dry now. Or maybe he doesn’t feel them anymore.

 

“What was troubling your rest?”

 

“Being a king is sometimes… just _too_ troublesome, as you must be well aware.”

 

“I am,” admits T’Challa, with a small smile warming his lips. He lays on Thor a knowing expression, as if he was aware of something that only he knew. “And I’ve been waiting to meet you for quite some time, if I’m being honest.”

 

“We already met.” Thor replies simply.

 

“Well, we saw one another, but we barely exchanged more than two sentences at a time. I wish to invite you to Wakanda, and I hope someday you’ll invite me in your kingdom as well.” He marks a pause, his eyes still on Thor with that strange, _knowing_ intensity. “I think our exchange of our experiences could be very beneficial for the both of us.”

 

Thor doesn’t respond. He’s not entirely paying attention, and the idea of being far from his land for even more time doesn’t help smoothing his temper. T’Challa takes his lack of response for some kind of agreement, because he’s saying as he’s leaving:

 

“I’ll be back in Wakanda in two days. I’ll expect you for breakfast.”

 

Thor hasn’t still agreed to anything, but he’s already been left alone in the corridor.

 

He still finds the time to fly back to Asgard for a few hours, feeling the ache for tranquility ringing right into his bones. Seeing the faces of his people, of his friends’ and family, is enough for now to keep his head above the waters. The sound of the waves crashing against the lands echoes into his chest; when he’s closing his eye, he can almost feel like everything’s alright again.

 

He misses so many things, but he’s still much more fortunate than most. He cherishes as best as he can what he’s got left, and tries to stay strong for everyone else’s sake.

 

Korg welcomes him with his usual optimistism, talking without interruption about new developments in the city, the constructions’ progress, the peculiar aspects of living on Earth, the Valkyries scaring him (but in a good way), and how much he’s missed his friend.

 

“I understand you’re the king, but I hope to see you more, buddy. Loki thinks alike but won’t say it aloud, and Brunhilde won’t admit it at all, but I know she feels the same.”

 

“You’re right. I think I’ll take some much needed rest in Asgard for a couple of months, once I’m finally free from foreign duties.”

 

“Ah, where are you leaving this time? America is boring, please go somewhere fun like Australia, I’ve seen some of their creatures on the internet, it’s crazy man! There are like, giant mouses who can fit their babies in a belly pocket! Can you believe that?”

 

“Hardly,” the king replies gently. He may not have it in him to laugh, but he’s still softened by his friend’s candid nature. He _has_ missed him, a lot. Thor needs to find his brother to give him a deathly bear hug — he feels like that might help him lift his spirit as well.

 

They come across Brunhilde training some young Valkyries by the shore. She’s smiling while ordering them around, clearly in her element and more lively than ever before. Thor has a brief thought about T’Challa’s bodyguard — Okoye — finding a sudden likelihood between them.

 

Far back, in the group of learning warriors, hiding under the shadows of a large tree, two loving eyes meet his: Bruce is sitting down, overlooking the training of the younglings, while meditating. His hands are resting on his knees, calm and steady, waiting to be held.

 

“Korg, I- I need to go. I’ll bring you a souvenir, I promise.”

 

“Oh, that’s nice, bud! Please bring back candies too, I like those!”

 

Thor walks slowly in Bruce’s direction, giving him the opportunity to escape if his need to be alone is still a present urge. But his lover watches him with serenity, his brown, tired eyes locking onto his face with full dedication. The god kneels at his side, letting his head fall between his crossed legs.

 

“I missed you so dearly, my love.” The words are whispered, swallowed by the strong wind and the growling sea, but Bruce hears them — or guesses their meaning, deep in his soul. One of his hands rests in Thor’s hair, caressing his scalp in the same way he’d sometimes sweep tears from his cheeks.

 

“I’m sorry,” Bruce answers, his voice just as quiet. He sounds like he’s about to cry. Maybe he’s as tired as Thor is. They fully embrace, hugging so strongly it’d hurt if it wasn’t them. Their weaknesses are sometimes too much for them to behold, and sometimes they cannot share each other’s pain without taking the time to heal their own.

 

Thor kisses him, and thunder breaks the sky in two. The air is heavy with sparkly lighting but the clouds don’t spare any rain.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Bruce says once more. “I knew things wouldn’t be easy for us, but I hoped it’d be easier for you. It feels like the whole world, hell, the galaxies _combined_ want to torment us. It was too much. I needed to think about the future without being a weight for you.”

 

“My dear, please, I’m sorry as well.” He kisses his neck, resting against the softness of his body. “I am so miserable these days, I feel like a lost child in a crowded market, surrounded by strangers to which I have no attachment. I hope to cure this depressive state soon but… I don’t know how.”

 

“You need rest, first of all.”

 

“But my body won’t rest if my mind is elsewhere.”

 

“Maybe we could go on vacation?”

 

“The world won’t leave me a day in peace.”

 

“Screw the world. If we don’t take care of each other today, we never will.”

 

Thor meets Bruce’s eyes again, finding in them the courage to keep hope dear to his heart. He sees in him their shared future, many fights to come, but equally as many victories. The grey in his hair is growing faster than before and the thought of his possible mortality scares Thor more than any other disaster.

 

“Will you come to Wakanda with me?”

 

“ _Why?_ ”

 

“Because I was invited by its king. This could be our chance to escape for some days.”

 

“Sounds like another diplomatic trip to me,” Bruce laughs lightly, and Thor drinks in the sounds with the thirst of a dying man. He smiles to himself, feeling alive again after several weeks of draindful obligations. He allows himself to relax, just a little bit; just enough to breath almost normally again.

 

“Let’s make it a honeymoon stay, then.”

 

“I won’t marry you that fast, you stupid, beautiful man.”

 

Thor relishes in the taste of his giggles right from his lips. His hands finally hold Bruce’s face, as it’s their rightful place to be; he needs to find balance in his life so never again will he be at risk of losing what they built and now share. He’s been eaten by his numerous duties and with what’s expected of him, but what’s the point of fighting for the living if he can’t live for himself too?

 

“Alright, let’s go to Wakanda.”

 

Thor beams at him, less joyful than usual, but he’s trying his best to be positive. Bruce kisses his eyepatch tenderly, seeing and appreciating his efforts. “I hope Shuri will be in town. That girl is so talented, she made Tony lose his mind in excitement. He called me the other day for four hours explaining to me in detail why she was the world’s future protector for generations to come.”

 

°°°°°

 

They fly in a normal plane from Norway to North Africa, but have to spend the rest of their ride in a private jet for _security reasons._ (Thor isn’t sure what it is about, but Bruce is certain it’s because they’ve just learned _the Hulk_ was his plus one.)

 

Arrived at Wakanda, the two watch, in wonder, the sun bathing the city in a warm, divine glow. As promised, Thor meets the other king for breakfast. His table is centered in a room entirely made of clear glass, so they can enjoy the view of the awakening of a city while eating their meal.

 

It’s a small table — definitely not the official, royal dining table — and that observation puts Thor more at ease. He likes being treated normally, and less like one of the most important person in each place he walks in.

 

They meet T’Challa’s sister and Bucky, whom join them as well simply for amusement, and definitely not by the king’s request. How does Thor know that fact? Because they’re bickering like siblings and making jokes on behalf of their leader without any shame or intent to stop.

 

“I can’t believe you’re only bringing me the white heroes,” says Shuri, with a bit of snark in her voice. “When will I meet the Falcon? Or the Iron Soldier? Bucky should be enough already!”

 

Barnes eats his meal, strangely at peace like he never was before. He gives Shuri and T’Challa the kindest expression of gratitude, and playfulness dances in his eyes.

 

“I’m your favorite white man.”

 

“Ugh, gross. You’re only still around so I can make you the most badass arm anyone’s ever made.”

 

“This one’s fine.”

 

“This one’s boring! T’Challa, remind him what I told you!”

 

“Just because something’s working doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be improved?”

 

“Yes! And that I only like him because he, unlike _someone’s else_ , actually brought me to Disneyland for my birthday.”

 

“I was saving the world, little sister.”

 

“Or you got lost on a mission because Nakia left you by yourself after you two lovebirds bickered over tactical differences.”

 

The mood at the table is strangely light, and watching their batter is heartwarming, not intrusive. It feels like a proper welcoming into a family; the served food is rich, and so is the love they share.

 

Shuri addresses Thor. “God of Thunder, is that right?”

 

“It is, Princess.”

 

“Ah, please, don’t call me that. How do you powers work? You point to the sky and lighting strikes?”

 

“Pretty much, yes.”

 

“Not interested. You, Doctor Banner, it’s another story. Your work on gamma radiations is truly brilliant, by the way, huge fan here, and it’s helped me theorize many of my creations using some of your models and translating them into the medium of vibranium.”

 

“That’s brilliant!”

 

“Ah, thanks. That means a lot coming from you!”

 

And here begins a long and intense conversation that none of the three other men will ever fully grasp. The meal finished, the two scientists naturally go their separate way to discuss further their interests, and T’Challa takes Thor’s arm in his.

 

“Let me show you around properly, if you’d like.”

 

“Ah, yes, my friend, I’d be honored.”

 

“Will you join us, Mister Barnes?”

 

“Nah, I’m teaching a self-defense class in less than an hour. The kids would never forgive me to choose you over them. Hope you understand.”

 

T’Challa laughs quietly and nods. “Go, then. I hope to have you back for dinner, at least.”

 

“Can’t make any promises, Your Majesty.” Barnes winks, with a confidence that suits him like a glove, and off to the city he goes.

 

“Well, it seems we will have plenty of time to ourselves. How long do you wish to stay with us?”

 

“I honestly don’t know. As much as I’m already fascinated by your technology, your culture and the beauty of your realm, I dearly miss Asgard. A couple of days, at most.”

 

“Very well. Let’s make your stay worth the trouble, then.”

 

“Lead the way, please.”

 

Thor never met a king’s his age, before — at least not one already in power of the throne. And while they’re definitely not the _same_ age, with his thousands of years of youth behind him, he feels like their souls have aged similarly. He sees in T’Challa what he wishes to become; a king in control but also at peace, with a lot more to live for.

 

They walk in silence through the corridors and stairs, leaving Thor in contemplation. It almost feels like they’re meditating… It’s the most serenity he’s felt since ages. He’s in good company, but doesn’t have to save appearances by making dull small talk.

 

He breathes in and out with a lot of vigor. The air is way warmer than it is in new Asgard, and he’s sure no wind here could compare to the ones waiting for his return at home; yet each kingdom has their beautiful qualities, and Thor’s mesmerized. He’s missed seeing magical sceneries like the ones Wakanda provides to his hungry eyes.

 

Earth is great in its own way… But kingdoms on other planets have a thousand more colors and forms, and their diversity would break most humans’ understanding of their world. He misses those wonderful, unexpected landscapes. Wakanda offers him nostalgia, but also comfort. Reassurance, also, that he didn’t _lose_ everything with the destruction of old Asgard.

 

The God of Thunder can still be surprised, and share times with interesting people who simply want to enjoy his company, and not his king’s title.

 

T’Challa is so quiet at his side. His footsteps don’t make a single noise. His dress is formal but largely falls on his chest and legs, while his hands sit on his crossed arms, with one of Thor’s own in them. It’s less intimate than it is grounding. They’re in the present moment, enjoying walking nowhere and doing nothing. Dear stars, Thor misses being able to simply walk with no purpose. He’s shocked at the realization, and by the sadness of that statement.

 

The sun is almost fully seated in the morning light blue sky. The city is now awakened, loud and beating like the heart of a roaring beast.

 

They finally arrive at the edge of a cliff, at the end of a cave shaped like an animal mouth — the legendary _Black Panther_ , Thor hopes. The rock teeth shine incredibly bright over their heads, and the view… Well, the view is stunning, of course. They are overseeing the mountains, the plains, the nature in sumptuous nuances of green, ocher and velvet browns. A light breeze caresses their ankles; it’s a powerful view for sure, but somehow it’s mostly a masterpiece to witness. Even as a king, Thor couldn’t dream of claiming a display of such beauties as his own, because something that heavenly could never be owned.

 

He stares until his eyes cries from the lack of blinking. T’Challa watches him again with a knowing look.

 

They sit on the ground, and continue to enjoy what they see without realizing the passing of time. Thor finally closes his eyes, concentrating all his energy to simply _breathe_. He focuses on the rise and fall of his chest, the points of tension in his joints and shoulders, the waves of stress pushing inside his belly. He listens to his body and puts all his energy into simply… letting all go.

 

The familiar tingling of electricity forms at his fingertips, his lungs filling with saturated raw force, and under his skin his blood runs warmer by the second. In the blink of an eye, he’s back in Norway; his dad’s here, once again. As is his mother, his _beautiful_ and dear mother.

 

She welcomes him in a tight hug, her golden hair having no smell but flowing in heavy braids; her robes are made of the most precious silk, bathing her in shades of white, gold and silver. She looks stunningly young. She looks just like when Thor was but a child.

 

“I’ve missed you dearly, my son.”

 

“Mother… I’ve missed you too.”

 

Their hug continues on, as his father’s voice rises behind them:

 

“I’m glad you’ve defeated Hela and brought your people to those lands. I’m proud of you, my boy. You will be a far greater and kinder king than I ever was.”

 

Thor can’t keep himself for asking, his face buried in his mother’s neck:

 

“Why did you hide Hela from me, father?”

 

“I was ashamed, I think. I wanted to protect our peaceful kingdom. I made unforgivable mistakes when I was your age, and I’m glad you could prevent yourself from doing as poorly as I did. You are a good leader. My past actions didn’t define me, but they were a part of my history. I chose to ignore them. That was a poor and selfish idea.”

 

“It destroyed Asgard and kept Loki and I away from our sister.”

 

“I know. I am sorry.”

 

Thor feels his mother’s touch, watching her eyes to find answers to questions he didn’t even form in his mind. He was always softened by his mother’s grace.

 

“Do not walk on your father’s path,” Frigga finally says, “walk on your own. Choose your battles, and do not try to save everybody. You’re the king of Asgard, but you’re also my beloved son, Thor. Find the time to love, to forgive and to rest. Don’t let your duties define who you are, and listen to your heart; it will always be your wisest advisor for as long as you’re alive.”

 

Thor simply nods, his words worthless in contrast to the ones he receives. He hugs his mother one last time, and open his eye to the city of Wakanda.

 

He’s back, and finally he feels like himself again. He simply needed closure. He needed to be held, reassured, and listened to.

 

“Thank you infinitely, my friend. I really needed that.”

 

“I didn’t do much,” T’Challa replies softly, he himself so calm he could have been asleep all along. “But I am glad you found peace along with me. The hardship of being a king is not an easy burden, and it is difficult to find someone in which you can confide and with whom you can be understood. I’m glad we can help each other in that matter.”

 

“Did you suffer from the moral difficulties of being a good king to your people, while not losing yourself in that role?”

 

“Yes. I almost died because of it. I was hurting and poorly handling my responsibilities. I was saved by the ones who loved me.”

 

“I understand… I think there lays the key to true balance.”

 

“You mean love?”

 

“Indeed.”

 

T’Challa silently agrees, his eyes looking at Thor with kindness and confidence. They will be wonderful allies, for sure, but even better friends. They’re similar in many more ways than being fellow kings and heroes; they share struggles than no other can fully grasp, they care deeply about the ones affected by their decisions, and they are the protector of their people's past and future.

  
It’s comforting to not feel alone anymore. Thor offers him one of his brightest smiles, simply to be meet by T’Challa’s own.

 

They’re going to be alright; everything’s going to be _alright._


End file.
